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Nora
Nora couldn’t stop weeping, and though she was still scared and exhausted, she thought these tears were mostly brought on by hope. Two busloads of people had shown up out of nowhere to help her son. She couldn’t believe it. She kept looking down at her open Bible in wonder as if Jesus himself were going to spring up out of the pages and spread his arms out to hug her.
She’d been reading the Bible and praying, and four police officers had shown up. Then she’d read the Bible and prayed some more, and two busloads of people had shown up. She was going to keep reading the Bible and praying. Somehow she’d surfed her way back to that verse her father had highlighted. And these were more noble than those in Thessalonica, receiving the word with all readiness of mind, daily searching the scriptures if these things were so. “I have readiness of mind, now, God,” she whispered. “Show me whatever you need to show me. Teach me whatever you need to teach me. I am all yours.” And then she kept reading, kept praying.
And before long, she found herself back in Psalms: Blessed be Jehovah, for he hath heard the voice of my supplications. Jehovah is my strength and my shield; my heart confided in him, and I was helped.
Wasn’t this exactly what had just happened to her? God had heard her cries. She didn’t feel very strong right now, but if she had any strength at all, it wasn’t coming from inside of her. And where else could it be coming from but God? What else could have guided her here to this place of help? Who else could have convinced the police officers that Levi might be nearby? Who else could have sent two busloads of volunteers from the other side of the state?
No one but God.
She didn’t know much, but she knew that he was in this. And so she kept reading, and she kept praying the same prayer she’d been praying since she’d started praying: Please save my son. Please send him help. Please bring him home. Only now she added a new line to her prayer: Thank you.
